Why Not to Make Enemies with Pirates and Authors
by TheDreamChild
Summary: [long drabble] Norrington is acting like Frodo, Beckett is realizing he's got enemies, and the authoress is to blame, though she's not feeling too guilty. sorta DMC spoilers.


**A/N: My vendetta against Beckett has reached an all time high. This is inspired by an imaginary conversation between Norrington, Beckett and myself, and by a plot Authoressinhiding and I had worked out for the disposal of Beckett. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, I'd be permitted to stab the real heart with my katana instead of sitting idly by while Will stabs it. **

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Norrington paced sullenly in the author's room, wondering where she had gone. It was terribly boring to be shut up all by himself in her house while he waited for the authorities to stop looking for him. His only source of comfort had been the steady reports of the _Black Pearl_'s sinking. The only thing that bothered him was that the authoress had not mentioned what had become of Elizabeth. A loud crash made him look up. The door had banged open. In strode the authoress, looking weather-beaten but thoroughly pleased with herself. She was dragging a tied and gagged Beckett along behind her.

"Good morning, Norrington," she said with a curt nod before she dropped her victim and went to her fridge. The best part about living in an imaginary room (which was basically what the author's room was) was that it had everything one needs. The authoress took out a cold bottle of water and drank from it.

"Much better." She smiled at Norrington, who didn't return it, then glared at Beckett.

"I caught this scum," she snapped, nudging Beckett's shoulder with her toe, "snooping around looking for trouble. He found it." Beckett made a muffled angry noise.

"What was that?" the authoress asked coolly. The British lord glared at her but fell silent.

"I'm employed by this man," Norrington pointed out.

"Not for long, you're not." The authoress stepped forward and slipped the gag out of Beckett's mouth. He let loose a string of curse words that made Norrington flinch. The author's expression didn't change but she did kick Beckett in the side.

"Oi! Language, Beckett, _language_!" she growled, "Now, tell the Commodore exactly what you told me." He looked defiant. It didn't improve his looks much.

"I am in the service of His Majesty the King of England!" he protested. The authoress raised an eyebrow.

"Welcome to the Caribbean, mate. Besides, as you said yourself, loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm. Savvy?" Beckett looked furious to have his own words turned on him.

"Now, if you please, tell the Commodore what you told me about the _Pearl_."

"Or what? You'll lock me in prison?" Beckett scoffed. The authoress grinned.

"No, but I will fight you to the pain."

"To the _what_?"

"To the pain! Don't make me recite the explanation, you won't like it." The lord gave her a blank look, and she unsheathed her katana suggestively. Beckett paled.

"On second thought, I'm happy to help."

"I'm sure." The authoress smiled at Norrington.

"Elf, what are you getting me into?" he asked suspiciously. After two months of running from the East India Trading Company, they were still not on first name terms.

"Nothing. Just listen, and try not to do anything…_stupid_…" Norrington moaned.

"With great regret I must announce that the pirate vessel known as _The Black Pearl_," Beckett began pompously, "was attacked by forces unknown on July the seventh, in the year of our Lord -." The authoress slapped him over the back of the head.

"Skip to the important bit." Beckett was indignant, but obeyed.

"The ship sank, and Miss Swann went with it." Norrington gasped in horror and let out a cry of despair. He sat down on the author's hammock.

"Dead?" he whimpered. He suddenly snatched the spare katana that rested on the barrel of rum that was propped by the hammock.

"Oi! Not good!" the authoress snapped, lunging for the blade. She and Norrington tugged at it.

"There's no point! I can't live without her!" Norrington was saying.

"You idiot, SHE'S NOT DEAD!" The Commodore released his hold on the knife so quickly that the Elf fell over.

"You bloody fool, I wanted to show you that Beckett's lying! I saw Elizabeth with my own eyes, alive and well. I called her a wench, even, if that's any proof," she snarled as she got to her feet. She set the spare katana somewhere out of sight and glared at Norrington.

"You're right…he was lying…where is he, anyway?" Norrington asked suddenly. Both looked at the place Beckett had occupied. He had vanished, but the ropes hadn't. They were cut.

"Oh bugger. I must've dropped my katana when I tried to grab yours," the authoress sighed. She went to the door and looked out. Sure enough, a wigged man was slowly getting smaller as he pelted away from them. The authoress grinned.

"He won't get far," she said smugly.

"Why not?"

"You see that cemetery he's running towards?"

"Yes."

"He's going to wish he hadn't gone there." With that the authoress darted out the door and returned moments later with her horse.

"I must be off. There are questions, questions that need answering! And I have to go fetch Umbridge and that spare Sue. You can come if you like, the Weasley twins are, my pet Dom is, and I might even convince Raven to show up, if she isn't sulking again." With that she vaulted onto her mare and cantered off, leaving Norrington standing in the dust. For a while he contemplated going back inside. But then he thought of how much fun these pirates were having, and he gave in.

"Wait up!"

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**A/N: The bit about the graveyard was for ye, Authoressinhiding. Expect a bit of company. **


End file.
